His Final Wish
by StarstruckLily
Summary: Jack Kelly's final wish was for his successor as leader of the Manhattan newsies to look after the thing he loved most in life his wife, Stagey.


"His Final Wish"

By Tigerlily

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Living on the streets has toughened me, made a man out of me some might say. The streets have certainly shaped me into the person that I've become. In fact, it was because of the streets that I was given the honor to meet my best friend's true love, a girl who by birth was called Belle Malone but we had christened Stagey after meeting her at Irving Hall.

Stagey wasn't a newsie like the majority of our friends. She sang on the vaudeville stage, and she was certainly one of the most talented to ever grace the stage of Irving Hall. Medda had been kind enough to allow her to stay in one of the attic rooms that had formerly been used for storage. After one of her performances, our leader, Jack Kelly, followed her up to her room to talk to her. What followed was one of the most beautiful relationships we had ever seen.

Unlike so many of the relationships we 'street rats' took part in, their emotions weren't an overly played act to gain prestige among their friends. They spent every waking moment together, he watching her shows from the free seats backstage, she often selling the papes with us on her days off from the theater.

And somehow, in all those hours, like turned to love.

I will never forget the look on Jack's face the night they came back to the Lodging House and announced their engagement. He had been saving for years to buy himself a ticket to Santa Fe, New Mexico- that dream abandoned following the strike, he instead spent his money on a small but elegant diamond engagement ring, with a gold wedding band to match.

They had to save all their money to pay the first three months rent on their apartment, so the wedding was a simple affair. A judge married them outside City Hall, with all the newsies in attendance. I don't think a single one of us sold a paper that day. Kloppman had arranged for us to go to Tibby's after the ceremony at an extremely discounted price, and to our surprise our old friend, Bryan Denton, showed up to cover what little we were expected to pay.

Despite the fact that they had their own place, their own lives, we still saw them regularly. Stagey still sang at Irving, Jack had somehow gotten the job as the headline writer for the _New York Sun_, and we were all welcome to visit them at their apartment any time, within reason.

Jack's departure from the life of the newsies had somehow made me leader of the Manhattan newsies. We had always thought that Race would be in charge, but he moved out just before Jack, to an apartment closer to both his job at Sheepshead Bay and his serious girlfriend, Shadow. So I was the man for the job.

I did my best as leader, but there were some instances where I just didn't know what to do. In those cases, I would run the few blocks over to Jack and Stagey's place and inquire for our former leader's solution to the problem. He would always help me out, never giving him his straight opinion but helping me come to my own conclusions. When Brooklyn and Harlem began a war of sorts I went to their apartment to ask for help. Jack asked me to wait a few days before making my decision, and he went down to Brooklyn to talk to his old friend Spot, who was just beginning his last year as a newsie. Before he left, he asked me to leave Skittery in charge of the Lodging House so that I could stay at their apartment with Stagey, who hadn't been feeling well.

Jack didn't return that night, so we assumed that he had stayed later than he planned and decided to stay in Brooklyn that night.

We were wrong.

Sometime either very late at night or very early in the morning, we awoke to a pounding on the door. As I had been sleeping still dressed on the couch, I reached the door first. I swung it open to reveal Cracker, one of Spot's runners. He was sopping wet and completely out of breath, and by the time I had ushered him into the apartment and calmed him down somewhat Stagey had emerged fully dressed from the bedroom. In a voice that was crackled with sobs, Cracker filled us in on what had happened since we last saw Jack.

Harlem had attacked the Brooklyn Lodging House while he was talking to Spot. Given that he and Spot had always been there for each other he didn't feel that he could stand by and watch as the Brookys fought the battle. Somehow, he and the Harlem leader, Dagger, had come up against each other. Dagger, true to his namesake, had pinned Jack to a wall through his chest with a knife, piercing my friend's lung.

Jack lay in Brooklyn,bleeding to deathas we spoke.

How we got to Brooklyn is a blur. It was still raining, though it had let up considerably since Cracker had entered the apartment. We let the runner lead the way, taking us on short cuts through alleys and parks until we reached the building where Jack lay.

Outside the Lodging House was still a scene of chaos, with broken crates and bits of clothing laying across the streets, a few corpses Harlem hadn't bothered to take with them completing the grotesque sight. Stagey, who had been lightly crying the entire way to Brooklyn, began sobbing at the sight. Averting our heads from the bodies, we picked our way through the mess to the lobby.

Spot intercepted us there. He nodded to Cracker, dismissing him with a glance, then turned to Stagey and myself. He muttered, unable to meet our eyes, that the doctor thought that Jack had only a few moments left, and that we should go to him right away.

Stagey immediately started for the door where he lay, but Spot's right hand man, Roundhouse, intercepted her. Apparently, he had been told of our arrival and had asked to see me before bidding his final farewell to his wife.

When I saw Jack, it took everything I had to keep from crying. My former leader lay quietly on the bed, unable to move, the wound still bleeding slightly. I still wasn't sure why he had asked to see me first in his final moments, but as I found out, it was so that I could grant his final wish.

He wanted me to look after Stagey.

I wasn't sure how I could accomplish something like that while still little more than a child myself, but what could I tell my best friend who was suffering through his final moments to make that wish? The only thing I could give him to ease his suffering was my word that Stagey would be safe. He thanked me and asked me to send in Stagey.

As I left the room, I turned and looked back at him one last time. "Carryin' da bannah, Jack," I whispered softly. That was the last time I saw Jack Kelly alive.

Stagey hurried in as soon as I left. They spoke for a few moments, and then her sobbing, which had quieted some, reached a crescendo. Spot and I cautiously went into the room, and found a hysterical Stagey clinging to Jack's hand, still laced with hers, sobbing brokenly on his chest.

We buried him the next day in a simple ceremony, which all the newsies from Manhattan and Brooklyn attended. While the mourners were offering their condolences to Stagey, I hurried over to their apartment and quickly gathered everything I thought she would need for the next few days. After I rejoined her, I quietly lead her by the elbow back to the Lodging House. I knew that the LH had painful memories for her, but I thought going back to her empty apartment would be even worse.

She took up residence in the sick room, and after a time it was assumed by all that she would be staying there. About two weeks after Jack's death, Racetrack and I quietly cleared out their apartment and informed the landlord that Stagey wouldn't be needing the rooms any longer. We never really talked to Stagey about it; consumed with her grief, she seemed perfectly content with whatever it was that Race, Skittery, myself, or any of the other boys told her to do.

After time she began to interact with us again. It took some time, but eventually her beautiful smile began to once again reach her eyes. We were so excited when it first happened that we followed her around for days, pestering her with meaningless jokes just to be sure that her sign of happiness was more than just a dream. We still didn't know how long she'd be staying in our sick room, but nobody wanted to ask her about it and bring up a memory of Jack, so we were forced to assume that she would be staying there permanently.

To our surprise, the assumption was correct.

A year after Jack's death, I was the oldest newsie still out on the street selling the papes. The others had long since moved out, and Bumlets and Racetrack had in fact gotten married. Everyone was growing up, but I was forced to stay at the Lodging House- or so I felt- because of my promise to Jack. Finally, Stagey came up with a solution.

She would take over Kloppman's job.

Kloppman, while still rather effectively running the LH, had been rather sick lately and due to bad arthritis could barely make it up the stairs to the bunkroom. Stagey could take over his job, and that way she would be guaranteed a place to stay for both her and her son.

Yes, her son.

The reason Stagey hadn't been feeling well that fateful night that I stayed with her at the apartment was due to her pregnancy. Eight months after Jack's death she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, whom she named Jack, after his father, of course. His middle name, Damien, was my true name. I was the boy's godfather and she thought it would only be fitting.

So I left the Lodging House and ventured out into the world. Jack grew into a handsome young boy, Stagey ran the LH with a firm hand after Kloppman's departure from this world, and the 'old gang' as we call those of us who went on strike have regular get togethers at someone's apartment.

It's amazing how much we've grown up. Racetrack, once an incurable gambler, now works as a jockey and trainer at Sheepshead Bay and is a devoted husband and father-to-be to his now wife, Shadow. Bumlets is also married, to a seamstress that he actually met through Sarah, named Shamrock. Most of us are in fairly committed relationships, andStagey and her sonwill always be welcome at any of our homes.

Despite how close the strike made us, I know that we wouldn't have all stuck together this long had it not been for our leader's final wish; that I, Kid Blink, would watch over his girl.

Stagey indeed was watched over, but not just by me. All of us, our family, and now little Jack, watch over her, just as we watched over each other in our years on the street.

Much as I wish that Jack were still with us, I have to say- the absolute best thing he ever did was to fall in love with Stagey. She's changed all of our lives… for the better.

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AN: Happy Birthday, Stagey-Face!

Yeah, this was written for her 19th (which was yesterday… oops!), and so it's dedicated to her.

Please read and review!


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